A Sanctuary For Lost Souls
by Eva1
Summary: A Roxton and Marguerite Romance/Action/Adventure


A SANCTUARY FOR LOST SOULS  
By Eva  
  
The evening had begun pleasantly enough with Ned bringing Veronica a bouquet of wild flowers hand picked on the way back from the pond where he, Roxton and Challenger had spent the afternoon swimming. During "the men's afternoon off", the women had been preparing a surprise birthday dinner for Challenger which was, indeed, a surprise for the leader of their little group and even Marguerite had seemed to enjoy planning the event. Of all the people she shared the treehouse with, Challenger was the only one Marguerite avoided arguing with. In truth, the others envied Challenger's elevated status with Marguerite, especially Roxton who hoped one day she would feel that way about him, only in a more familiar way.  
  
After everyone had retired for the evening, Marguerite found herself restless and unable to sleep. She left her bedroom, her bed cover not yet turned down and began moving around the great room with a nervous energy. Roxton heard her rumblings and felt optimistic at having a go at persuading her to join him in his room for.......whatever! might happen. After all, they had been getting on a lot better lately. She had even allowed him to kiss her sweetly on the cheek tonight while they were dancing to a Strauus waltz provided by the phonograph Veronica's parents had brought to the plateau so many years ago. Tonight had been promising...promising that maybe Marguerite and he were moving closer to a more familiar stage in their relationship.  
  
As Roxton entered the room, Marguerite, dressed only in her night gown and robe, was leaning over the balcony looking at the full moon that was providing a warm glow over the treehouse.  
  
"A penny for your thoughts, Marguerite."  
  
"My thoughts are worth much more than a penny, John. You should know that. I'm reminded of it often enough," Marguerite answered.  
  
"Now Marguerite, let's not start arguing, especially not tonight with the magic this full moon seems to be casting over us," John began, searching for the right words to bring Marguerite to him.  
  
"Why, John.... how romantic. Are you trying to put me in a good mood? Or, is there an ulterior motive I should be aware of?" she quizzed him cautiously.  
  
"You wound me, my dear," he answered while feigning hurt feelings. "Don't you ever get tired of being so defensive.? Give me the benefit of the doubt, that maybe I'm just trying to repay you for a delightful evening. What more could a man ask for....a delicious dinner, pleasant company , music to dance by and a beautiful woman to hold in his arms! Even if I was only holding you because of a dance, it was the most charming moments we've spent together since we found our way to this plateau."  
  
"Now I know you have other motives. You're never this nice to me!"  
  
"Well, the thought had crossed my mind," he said with a sly grin, " that we could perchance continue the delightful evening in my room? or your room - since yours does have the larger bed." He paused and then said, " Just a moment...don't go away." John took a few steps back into the kitchen and removed the flowers from the vase on the table, the same flowers Ned had picked for Veronica.  
  
When he returned, he presented the flowers to Marguerite with that look on his face that he was about to collect his prize for "being nice". Marguerite recognized this look all too well, as she had been witness to it on all too many occasions. That smirk that practically shouted he had won!!! She hated that look! Well, not tonight. Not with this man. She had other plans for this one. She wanted a future with this man she had shared common living quarters with for the past two years. My God, had it really been two years since they had stumbled onto this lost world plateau?  
  
"Second hand flowers, Roxton? Really, I thought you could come up with a better ploy than that to get me into your bed." With that Marguerite tossed the flowers over the balcony, where both watched them scatter on the jungle floor.  
  
With that Roxton knew he had lost her for the night...but just for the night. He couldn't have mistaken the signals Marguerite was sending him earlier that evening while they were dancing in each other's arms. She had leaned in so close to him at one point, that he was encouraged to kiss her on the cheek. He would have preferred her lips, but it was such a sweet cheek, he would not deign to complain.  
  
After the demise of the flowers over the balcony, both John and Marguerite walked to their own respective bedrooms. John couldn't resist trying to have the last words, "Someday Marguerite you'll come to me of your own accord, without the necessity of any ploy on my part."  
  
"In your dreams, Roxton!" she threw back sarcastically.  
  
When Marguerite was alone in her room, she reviewed over and over in her mind the earlier flirtation on the balcony with Roxton, and had small pangs of remorse for not giving in to his ever so tempting invitation. God knows, he was probably the only man who could quell the desires that lately were constantly erupting in her heart. But she needed to stand firm. She wanted this man to be her future. What kind of a marriage would they have if he thought she had given in too soon?  
  
Since these thoughts were threatening to keep her awake for the rest of the night, she decided to break a rule of the house, venture downstairs to the jungle floor and retrieve the scattered flowers. She felt the need to return them to their rightful place on the dining table. Maybe John would notice tomorrow morning and realize she was trying to apologize for turning down his proposition tonight. Quietly, she made her way to the elevator and lowered the cables slowly to prevent making any noise that would wake the rest of the group.   
  
Once downstairs, she began scooping up the flowers into the pockets of her robe when she thought she heard a movement in the thick brush that surrounded the generator. She turned for a better look when something struck her hard on the side of her head, and she slumped to the ground.  
  
"We've got her!" whispered a low husky voice. He lowered the quarterstaff that had been used to overpower the woman and was now binding her hands and feet, making her ready for the long journey across the plateau.  
  
When he was satisfied she was tightly bound, he carried her limp body to a spot further out in the jungle where his traveling companion was waiting with the horses.   
  
"Uh, oh. Vadar's not going to be pleased you struck her. That'll leave a mark!"  
  
"She was about to call out. I had to hit her," answered Marguerite's attacker. "We don't want to return without Vadar's bride-to-be. He's not the sort to be reckoned with when his orders are not carried out to his satisfaction."  
  
"Well, all I'm saying, he's not going to like that bruise on her face." He knew the full capacity of Vadar's anger and was always looking for ways to appease the man who paid him his monthly servant wages. Bringing back this woman with a mark on her face would not please Vadar.  
  
"Then, he should have taken the time to capture her himself. He's been watching her for weeks now. He knows their daily routines. Why send us?"  
  
"Vadar's a busy man. He may be obsessed with this one's beauty, but that's why he keeps us in his service ...to do his dirty work."  
  
"We'd better move out. We need to put time between this dwelling and us. They'll realize all too soon they're missing one of their own and come after her."  
  
With that they led their horses away quietly until they were out of hearing distance and then quickly disappeared into the jungle with Marguerite's body slumped over the saddle horn of her attacker's horse, and still unconscious.  
  
*****  
  
Next morning, everyone assembled at the breakfast table around 8, except for Marguerite. As usual, they all assumed she was sleeping late. Their 'dear Marguerite' was not a morning person, as she had all too frequently pointed out to them. So the consensus at the table was "to let her sleep". "No need to wake a sleeping dragon." There would time enough later to hear her and Roxton begin their daily carping.  
  
Around 11 o'clock, the others were going about their daily chores, when Ned mentioned, "Isn't this a little late even for Marguerite? Maybe someone should check on her."  
  
When no one jumped at volunteering for the job, Veronica sighed, "All right, I'll go. Wasn't aware until now what a bunch of cowards you men are. 'Sleeping dragon'!? Isn't that what you called her Roxton?"  
  
Ned and Roxton looked at each other and nervously laughed. They both knew they were cowards when it came to waking Marguerite before her 'beauty sleep' was completed.  
  
When Veronica returned to the kitchen, she had an odd look on her face, one which immediately disturbed Roxton as it indicated something was amiss. And since it involved Marguerite, his concern was even more intense.  
  
"What's wrong, Veronica ? Did she throw something at you for disturbing her 'beauty sleep'?" Roxton was still holding on to the comforting thought that the 'amiss' was just Marguerite expressing her anger at having her privacy disturbed.  
  
"I think you both need to come see her room."  
  
Roxton and Ned quickly followed Veronica to the room at the south end of the treehouse, looked in and discovered what had put a shadow on Veronica's face. The bed had not been slept in and Marguerite's clothes were still hanging where she had placed them the night before. Other than that nothing else was different, except that it was also missing it's occupant of the past two years - Marguerite.  
  
Roxton lost no time descending to the bottom of the jungle floor calling her name with an intensity no one had heard him speak with before.  
  
Veronica and Ned followed Roxton after alerting Challenger in his lab what they had found in Marguerite's room, or rather what they had not found....the lady herself.  
  
Roxton had suddenly stopped calling her name when he realized the flowers she had unceremoniously thrown over the balcony last night were also missing. The little fool, he thought, she came down to get the flowers and something or someone must have been waiting for her. My God, where is she!!!!! Roxton felt like he was losing his mind thinking about the possibilities of what could have happened to this woman he had - much against his will - become so captivated with since their first meeting in London two years ago.  
  
"She's gone! Let's spread out and search the treehouse surroundings. She could be lying somewhere hurt and needing our help." Roxton was literally shouting the last commands to the group. Challenger had the forethought to grab a couple of rifles on his way to the elevator and now threw one to Roxton who firmly caught it and raised it in preparation for whatever he might find in the nearby jungle.  
  
A half-hour later when the group reassembled at the treehouse all had to admit their search had not turned up any sign of Marguerite. Veronica was the only one to offer any kind of clue as she had discovered what appeared to be footprints many yards away that could be from horses, or it could be from any kind of wild animal that occupied the plateau.  
  
Roxton showed his disappointment in their fruitless search, and immediately began making plans to pack gear for the inevitable journey they were destined to make in search of their missing friend. Veronica insisted they eat a meal before they left.... they would need the energy if they were to find Marguerite and bring her home. Roxton refused to eat and told the group he would assemble the gear below while the others finished their meal.  
  
*****  
  
The group traveled all day with only sporadic breaks to stop and catch their breath. So, when night began to fall, Veronica insisted they stop and make camp.  
  
"Better to get a good night's sleep and start out early tomorrow at dawn. Roxton, you know this is the best way. You'll never find her in the dark, " Veronica said trying to sound encouraging.  
  
Ned joined Veronica in convincing Roxton, "You can't travel through the jungle at night. It's dangerous enough during the day, but at night.....". His voice trailed off as he saw the worried look that came over Roxton's face. He knew what he must be thinking. His Marguerite was out there somewhere in the dark of the night, in danger and he had to find her!  
  
Being the most exhausted of the group, Roxton was the first to fall asleep - a deep sleep - only to be awakened suddenly by the sound of a familiar voice calling his name...that of Marguerite's. He quickly jumped to his feet and realized during the night a thick mist had settled over the campsite. A mist so thick he could barely make out the form coming toward him. He hoped the voice he heard seconds ago would be connected to whomever was approaching him through the mist...his whole body yearned for this.  
  
"Marguerite, is that you? " Roxton called out. When he was certain of the face before him, relief flooded over his body and he said, "It is you!"   
  
When Marguerite was close enough for Roxton to touch her face, he encircled her with his arms and drew her near enough to feel her heart pounding against his own chest.  
  
"John.... I knew you would come for me," she whispered against his neck. "You have to get me out of this place and back home!"  
  
"That's why we're here. We've been looking everywhere for you. How did you find us? Where were you? What happened to you? "  
  
Marguerite pulled away and stared into Roxton's puzzled face. "I thought you knew. I thought that's why you came for me. " She was looking at him now with a pleading look in her eyes. " I'm in danger, John. I can feel it," she said with a dread in her voice.  
  
"Danger? Marguerite, I don't understand. You're safe now, I've found you, " he said consolingly  
  
Before he could pull her back to him, some unseen force was pulling Marguerite out of his arms and back into the mist and darkness that now surrounded the campsite.   
  
"Find me, John.... I need you" her voice pleaded.  
  
She was slipping further away from him, being pulled against her will from him, with an unfamiliar look of fear in her eyes...."Please find me, John.........." as her voice trailed off into the mist.  
  
"Marguerite! Don't leave me! I just found you, don't leave......Marguerite!!..."  
  
Roxton awoke sharply crying out her name..."Marguerite???" The others were startled awake by John's frightened shout and immediately thought Marguerite had returned. When they realized there were still only four of their group in the campsite, Veronica was the first to move to his side in an effort to comfort her anxious friend.  
  
"She was here! I saw her!" As he looked around the campsite, the only faces he saw now were the ones of his worried companions. His head was hurting from the strain of looking for the face he had held so close just moments before.   
  
Veronica attempted to comfort him with "John, you must have been dreaming. She's not here."  
  
"We have to find her. She's in serious trouble. Don't ask me how I know, I just know" Roxton exclaimed, refusing to be comforted.  
  
Roxton shook his head trying to clear his mind, as well as the tears that were forming in his eyes as he remembered her familiar scent from the night before. Had it really been just a dream? Had Marguerite really come to him in his dream? It had felt so real! He could still feel the soft curls filling his hands as he had caressed her to him.   
  
She had spoken to him...what had she said?...that she was in danger?. He was haunted by her last words..."Find me, John. I need you." He had to find her, no matter how long it took.  
  
"Don't worry John, we'll find her. No matter how long it takes, we'll find her." Challenger seemed to mirror John's mind when he spoke these words. He was confident of their intention, but not so sure of their success. In his mind, he wanted to believe the words he had just spoken to Roxton, but with no clues of who had taken her, or where she had been taken, or for that matter...why ...a successful search did not seem very promising at the moment. He hoped with all his heart for the sake of John's sanity that his worst fear was not true...that Marguerite may already be dead.  
  
*****  
  
In a village many miles from the treehouse, a young woman was tending to Marguerite's injury that was now swelling up into an ugly bruise on her right temple. It was a task Serena had volunteered for, as she wanted to see for herself what sort of woman Vadar had become so possessed with. Her only thoughts right now were how to rid herself and the village of this intruder. This intruder who had captured the heart of Vadar whom only months before had been her own betrothed.   
  
What did this woman possess that could so captivate the heart of one of the most powerful men in the village? At one time he had been so possessed by her own beauty and by her own stature in the village that he had asked her father for the honor of marrying her. Wasn't her father one of the most prosperous men in their settlement? Hadn't her father offered a sizable dowry to Vadar to marry her.? What could have changed his mind?  
  
Serena turned her attention back to Marguerite who now seemed to be sleeping calmly. Through the night, her head had been thrashing from side to side as though something, or someone, was filling her mind. Serena studied the raven-haired beauty laying on the bed before her, longing for answers to her questions. Questions that seemed to have no ready answer.  
  
"Is she awake yet?"   
  
Vadar's thundering voice startled Serena and caused her to knock the water pitcher off the table next to Marguerite. With the crash of the urn, Marguerite stirred on the bed and moaned softly.  
  
"Well, she is now! " Serena voiced sarcastically to the huge man filling the doorway.  
  
Vadar approached the bed where Marguerite lay and whom Serena was now shielding from further disturbance. After all, she had been given the task of tending to this woman's injuries, injuries that had been caused by the man now bending over to touch her face.  
  
"Vadar, she's still weak, and not fully awake yet. It's obvious your men resorted to brutish methods to capture her. When you were courting me you never resorted to such clumsy methods. You were such a tender lover with me."   
  
Vadar cast his eyes to the floor and seemed to be truly embarrassed at this last revelation from his former betrothed. Then, as he slowly raised his eyes to rest on Marguerite's beautiful form lying on the bed before him, he quickly regained the gruff demeanor he had entered the room with.  
  
"You're not here to talk about the past, Serena. You're here to tend to this woman's wounds and make her ready for her new role, that of my wife."  
  
Serena sighed and turned back to her charge, resigned now that the feelings Vadar once had for her were gone and had been replaced with the obsession he now felt for this new woman.  
  
Once Vadar had left the room, Marguerite seemed to be regaining consciousness. How long had it been ...one day, two days? She knew her right temple ached and her eyes were struggling to stay open.   
  
"Ohhhh.....my head " She squinted into the dimly lit room and was able to make out that someone was leaning over her, as though willing her to wake up.   
  
When Marguerite was able to make out the shadowy form, she realized it was a woman, possibly younger than she, and she raised her head up quickly... too quickly. The dizziness she experienced almost caused her to pass out again. She struggled to stay awake to ask, "Where am I? How did I get here?"  
  
"Well!...so you are awake. We were afraid you might sleep through your wedding day."  
  
"What?....What did you say? Did you say wedding day?" Marguerite asked blearily beginning to feel woozy again.  
  
"Don't talk anymore. You need to get your strength back. Here drink this," as she handed her a cup of water. "Then lay back down. That bump on your head needs to go away before Vadar will make you his wife. He likes his women untouched."  
  
Marguerite was having trouble comprehending what the woman was saying. She thought she heard wedding day...and wife. Whose wife? Surely she wasn't talking about Roxton. This place did not have a familiar feel to her. Not the furnishings or the dim lighting, and certainly not the bed she was lying in. She knew without asking she was no longer at the treehouse, and her Roxton was not with her.  
  
The only obvious reminder of the treehouse were the flowers she had placed in the pockets of her night robe, which had apparently been removed while she slept and placed in a vase on the table next to her bed. Only...and she knew her mind must be playing tricks... it seemed some were missing.  
  
She also felt she had been with Roxton last night... just briefly... just long enough to be caressed by the man she hoped with all her heart would share all her future nights. She remembered him saying, "I've found you. You're safe now." But even with those words fresh in her memory.... right now...in this room...she didn't feel very safe.  
  
*****  
  
Roxton was furiously searching the perimeter of the campsite, looking for any clue that might lead them to Marguerite. Although he wasn't ready to share it with the rest of the group, this current search was spurred by the need to find something that would prove Marguerite had been there the night before. He couldn't believe it had been a dream!   
  
"John, we need to break camp...and be on our way. Maybe we should stop at the Zanga village. Someone may know something," Ned said as he curiously approached Roxton.   
  
Roxton's heart had leapt at the sight of the three flowers laying on the jungle floor forming an arrow pointing to an trail that had not been there the night before. These were the flowers in the bouquet he presented to Marguerite the night before. What did it mean? Had she been carried against her will through this part of the jungle and was leaving a trail for him to follow? Or, had she dropped them last night when she was pulled from his arms? Whether she had been real... or a lost soul in his dream... it meant she was still alive and was waiting for him to find her.   
  
Her last words, "Find me, John...I need you" echoed even louder in his mind and increased his resolve to find her and take her home.   
  
Roxton shouted, "We'll go this way today," as he led them down the trail which had been marked by the three flowers.  
  
*****  
  
That afternoon as Marguerite again struggled to open her eyes, she slowly realized she was not back in the treehouse, but lying on a narrow bed with a thin mattress, and she was not alone. She was able to make out the figure of a young woman, sitting across the room with some kind of a white garment on her lap. She had a dim memory of this same woman being in the room during her earlier attempt to wake up.  
  
"Where am I!?," demanded Marguerite.  
  
She was suddenly struck with the realization of the close resemblance between herself and the woman approaching her bedside. The woman had long black hair, pulled back very similar to Marguerite's own hairstyle, and they were almost the same height, weight and shape.  
  
Serena had put down the white dress she was putting final touches to and walked to the side of Marguerite's bed. "You're in Vadar's home. Don't try to get up so soon! You've had a hard blow to your head and you need to rest. We need to have you healthy and fit for the celebration four days from now."  
  
Marguerite was now sitting straight up in her unfamiliar bed, completely unheeding the warning of sitting up too soon. Even though she was experiencing dizziness, she still knew she didn't belong here and had to do everything in her power to comprehend what was happening.  
  
"What celebration? The only celebration I want to hear about is the one of my returning to my real home!"  
  
Serena gave her a look of disdain. She already disliked this woman because of Vadar's obvious attraction to her, but the shrillness of Marguerite's personality was already showing its true self which gave Serena another reason to want to rid herself of this trespasser in her life  
  
"You are in your real home. You new real home! In four days, when the bruise on your face is gone, Vadar will make you his wife and the whole village will join in a celebration. So don't look so shocked. This is why you were brought here. It's what Vadar desires, and Vadar usually gets everything he wants."  
  
Marguerite detected a bit of jealousy, or was it bitterness, in that last remark, but wasn't ready yet to explore the secrets of this woman's mind. There would be time enough for that later. Right now, she had to determine the seriousness of the situation and try to devise an escape. In her heart, she knew Roxton was on his way to rescue her...but how long would she have to wait. Better to have an alternate plan.  
  
"Is that my wedding dress you're working on? If it is, it's beautiful." Marguerite was trying to turn on whatever charm she possessed to gain the woman's confidence. She was also thinking, well I haven't seen this Vadar yet. If he's like any other man I've known, he won't be able to resist my charms and I can create some kind of ruse to distract him, then run back to my real home, the treehouse.  
  
"Stand up, if you think you're able, and we'll see how it fits."  
  
Marguerite complied with Serena's command, slipping off her nightgown and robe, which she now had become aware she was still wearing. For a moment, she felt vulnerable in this strange village, in this strange room, wearing the same garments Roxton had last seen her in.  
  
When the wedding gown was in place, Serena directed her rival toward a mirror in one corner of the room and Marguerite gasped when she saw how well the dress fit and suited her. Granted it was white, and perhaps with Marguerite's past it would have been more seemly to wear an 'off-white', but she wasn't about to share this information yet with the woman standing beside her. Afterall, she vaguely remembered her saying Vadar liked his women 'untouched'.  
  
There was something in Serena's eyes....tears?....which prompted Marguerite to feel a moment of tenderness, and offer "I'm Marguerite. Do you have a name?"  
  
"Of course I have a name!" Serena snapped, choking back the tears she almost allowed this woman to witness. "It's Serena."  
  
My God, Marguerite thought, she even has a temper like mine.  
  
"Well, Serena, where is your husband. Please tell me it's not one of the brutes that carried me here...against my will I must add"  
  
"I have no husband. Vadar was to be my husband. Until some weeks ago when he saw you undressed bathing in the pond near your dwelling. After that, his heart was filled with the desire to possess you, mind and body. " Serena didn't know why she was telling Marguerite the history of her relationship with Vadar, but something told her this new love of Vadar's didn't want to be here awaiting an impending wedding anymore than she herself wanted her here.  
  
Serena continued, "Vadar will be here tomorrow morning to see how your wounds are progressing. He's very anxious for an early recovery. " With that, she turned quickly and left the room.   
  
Startled, it took Marguerite only a moment to realize the seriousness of her present situation and followed the young woman quickly to the door only to have it slammed in her face and to hear it being locked and bolted from the other side. In a few seconds, she heard Serena alert the guards to watch the door.  
  
That being eliminated as an escape route, she made a quick circling of the room looking for a window or another door. Disappointed at finding none, she sank back on the bed unaware she was still wearing the wedding gown Serena had more or less hinted should be hers instead of Marguerite's. Night was falling and Marguerite's eye lids were beginning to feel heavy again from the strain of comprehending the day's events and she allowed herself to fall asleep, the wedding gown still adorning her body.  
  
*****  
  
After following the uncharted path in the jungle that Roxton had insisted they take, the search party was no closer to finding a clue to lead them to Marguerite. It was Roxton this time who suggested they camp for the night. It would be dark soon, and they all needed a good night's sleep, especially Roxton himself. No one knew what thoughts were fashioning in his mind. They would have called him crazy.   
  
But he was crazy....crazy with worry about Marguerite and what could be happening to her at this very moment. His eagerness to get a 'good night's sleep' was in the hope Marguerite would come to him again. Whether she had been real or just a welcome visitor in his dreams last night, he was anxious to hold her again and hoped she would leave another lead for them to follow tomorrow morning.  
  
Roxton had been asleep only a short while, when he was awakened by the same noise as the night before, the sound of Marguerite's voice being carried to him through the now familiar mist descending over the campsite. And, there she was again, coming quickly toward him. But what was she wearing? Last night, she was still wearing the same gown and robe she had worn on the balcony that last night in the treehouse. But tonight, she was dressed in white! A long white gown, the same as he had seen before in the few weddings he had attended back home in London. What did this mean?!  
  
Did the white dress mean she had departed the surroundings of this earth and now resided with the spirits of the next world. Oh please God, he thought, don't let it be that.  
  
"Marguerite, you've come back to me. I don't understand why I only see you at night while I'm dreaming, but don't leave me this time," he pleaded.  
  
"John, I don't understand any of this either. I just know I'm frightened. "  
  
"The white gown you're wearing......tell me what it means."  
  
"It's supposed to my wedding dress in a few days. I'm being held against my will. Someone named Vadar wants me for his wife." Marguerite was crying by this time. "You have to find me John. It's you I want to marry. Not someone I don't know or for that matter someone I haven't even seen yet."  
  
"You haven't met him yet? Do you know where you are? Can you tell me anything to help us find you?" The questions were pouring from Roxton's mind faster than he could think. He desperately needed to know the answers. Who was this Vadar who had the impudence to want his Marguerite?  
  
Before Marguerite could answer his pleas, he felt the same force as last night, wrenching his love from his arms, pulling her back into the mist and darkness.  
  
"No! Marguerite, don't go! Don't go!"  
  
Marguerite was repeating the same distressing words as she had last night while leaving him..."Find me, John....I need you."  
  
He awakened abruptly in a cold sweat. He knew now her lost soul was visiting him in his dreams, coming to him while he slept to give him the clues he needed to save her. But save her from what? He struggled to remember everything she had just told him. Someone named Vadar was keeping her captive. And, he wanted to make her his wife!? She said she hadn't met or seen him yet. That meant she was still relatively safe, but probably not for long.  
  
Dawn was breaking in the jungle, so there was just enough light for John to search the perimeter of the campsite looking for the same kind of clue he had found yesterday morning. And, there it was. Three flowers from the treehouse's bouquet, shaped in what appeared to be an arrow pointing to another uncharted trail.  
  
Oh my darling Marguerite. My darling clever Marguerite. Somehow, the strong pull of their unspoken love was allowing their souls to meet in his dreams, showing Roxton and the rest of the group the way to find her.  
  
By the time Roxton returned to the campsite, the others were just waking and Veronica was preparing a quick breakfast to give them the energy they needed to sustain themselves for the trek ahead.  
  
"I've found another trail. I'm sure it's the one we need to take today."  
  
****  
  
Marguerite was awakened by a loud noise on the other side of the locked door. Someone was turning a key in the lock and sliding the bolt away, allowing a large, burly man to enter the bedroom she had been told was her new home.  
  
The sight of the unknown man approaching her caused Marguerite to sit upright in her bed and for once, thought better of saying anything that might incite the wrath of this strange person standing before her.  
  
"Serena does good work," as he reached out to touch the skirt of her gown. "Yes, you will make a comely sight when you stand with me before the altar. The bruise is healing quickly. The wedding could take place sooner than we thought."  
  
The words and the threatening touch of this unfamiliar man caused Marguerite to recoil in fear and repulsion. Why couldn't she think of something to say back? Words had always come quickly and sharply to her. She always had a retort for everything. But at this moment, all she could do was swallow hard and back away from the hand that was now stroking the skirt of her gown.  
  
When she saw Serena enter the room, her courage returned and she spat out,"That's never going to happen. You have to know I don't love you. You have to know you brought me here against my will. What kind of man are you? " She wasn't sure why, but Serena's presence seemed to give her the confidence to speak out to this person she assumed was Vadar.   
  
"The kind of man who will make you his wife by the end of the week", he bellowed back to this raven-haired beauty that had possessed his mind since first he saw her naked body at the pond weeks ago.  
  
*****  
  
Vadar had been on a hunting party a couple of months ago with members of his village when he ventured   
away from the group looking for a water supply. When he approached the pond, he had drawn back quickly in the thick brush when he spied the lovely woman bathing in the pond. It was obvious she was alone or he never could have come that close without someone seeing or hearing him. He was immediately mesmerized by this longhaired beauty and promised himself she would be his, with or without her consent.   
  
For weeks after his first sight of this woman, he continued to take the long trek through the jungle to watch her from a safe distance. Finally, he could wait no longer and decided to capture her and bring her back to his village. He had planned to do the capturing himself, but was afraid he would not be able to resist pursuing his desires with her on the long trip back to his village. And, as he wanted his wife to be 'untouched', he had sent two of his servants to bring her back.   
  
At the time Vadar had seen Marguerite for the first time, he was already betrothed to Serena for several months, one of the most beautiful women in his village, and from a prosperous family. Her father had offered the largest dowry of any other man in the village to anyone who asked him for the hand of his only daughter. But it hadn't been just the dowry that had prompted Vadar to talk with Serena's father. He had been in love with her since they had been children, a love that had grown with the years, and when she was of a nubile age, he took the plunge and asked her father for her hand in marriage.  
  
Serena had been glowing when her father called her back into the room and announced that Vadar was to be her husband. She had dreamed of this moment since the times she and Vadar had played in the village square with the other children. They had always been paired off together during all the familiar children's games. She had always known he would make a fine husband when they were old enough to marry.   
  
Then Serena made a fatal mistake. One evening while walking through the woods surrounding their village, Vadar had pressed her to do more than just kiss. She at first refused, remembering what her mother had told her, that men want their wives to be 'untouched'. But Vadar's kisses were insistent and she surrendered herself to this man she thought in her heart would still want her, even if at the wedding alter she could no longer claim to be 'untouched.'  
  
Since that night, Vadar had been cool and distant, and at times no where to be seen in the village. He seemed to disappear for days at a time and return with a look in his eyes that up to that fateful night had been reserved only for her. Then two weeks ago, he had abruptly told her the wedding was off. He had found someone else. Someone, she thought, 'untouched.!' When Vadar had returned the dowry to her dismayed father later that day, she knew Vadar had spoken the truth, and cried herself to sleep that night.  
  
*******  
  
Vadar left Marguerite's room as loudly as he had entered it. His boots were striking the floor with resounding thuds, as though he was determined to show this woman he meant what he had said. She WOULD be his wife and that was final.  
  
Marguerite noticed Serena's eyes following Vadar's departure from the room. She could tell she still felt love for this man, although why was beyond Marguerite's scope of comprehension. Then she thought, if anyone were to overhear her and Roxton 'going for each other's jugular' they would probably wonder why either one of them could still claim to have a strong affection for the other. Love does strange things to our good senses. Marguerite could speak from experience, and so it appeared could Serena.  
  
"You had better take the dress off now. It will need pressing since you've obviously been sleeping in it."  
  
"What do I wear instead? I can't go around the next few days dressed in my night gown."  
  
"Put this on." Serena handed her a long, dark brown gown, with intricate embroidery adorning the neckline and cuffs of the long sleeves.   
  
"What beautiful work, Serena. Did you do this?"  
  
Serena seemed to blush at the compliment. "It symbolizes the history of our tribe. It identifies our village and the part of the plateau we call home. Every female of marrying age works on her trousseau for weeks before her wedding. This was to be part of mine, before Vadar saw you." Bitterness had begun to creep into Serena's voice again and Marguerite knew she had to return the conversation to one of 'just two girls' talking about their men.  
  
"Serena", she began smoothly, "come sit with me and tell me more." Perhaps, if she could gain this young woman's confidence, she could find a way to escape. Surely, Serena didn't want her there in her village anymore than Marguerite wanted to be there. This may be the path to take.   
  
Marguerite was suddenly overwhelmed with memories of last night rushing through her mind. The word path evoked an emotion she strained to remember. Path?...path?...why did this word seem so familiar? She felt that something in last night's dream had a connection to the word...path. What was taking Roxton so long to find her? She felt as though he had been with her in this room last night. But staring at her surroundings, she knew that was impossible.   
  
And, why were more flowers now missing from the vase? All these thoughts were puzzling to Marguerite, but the most curious was her desire to retire early and sleep. Curious because Marguerite had always been a night owl and usually prolonged her bedtime to long after the others had retired at the treehouse. But tonight, her eyelids became heavy with the desire to sleep and .....dream.  
  
*****  
  
Roxton had been overjoyed to find another clue left by Marguerite the night before. Somehow, she had found a way to lead him to her. He toyed with the idea of telling the others why he was so insistent on following this particular path in the jungle, but thought better. He still wasn't sure himself what was happening while he slept, he just knew that the next morning he would find some kind of clue left by whatever part of Marguerite's soul was entering his dreams. Whatever it was, it had to be followed and quickly. He had the dreaded feeling that time was running out for Marguerite, as well as for his sanity if they didn't find her soon.  
  
That night, John pitched his blanket a short distance away from the others. He wanted to feel a certain amount of privacy when his love came to him that night. While he was entertaining these thoughts, the familiar mist began to surround the campsite and John fell into a deep sleep, just as he had for the last two nights. He knew instinctively his love would be with him soon and he was hoping with all his heart, she could finally give him the information they needed to find her.  
  
She came into sight as before, quietly and deliberately making her way straight into John's waiting arms. When she was where they both knew she belonged, instead of asking questions, John lifted her tear-stained face to his and gently kissed her lips, the lips he had been coveting for the last two years. Why had he waited so long to kiss this woman in his arms?  
  
God knows there had been plenty of opportunities. There had been that day a couple of months ago when she had broken the rule of the house and gone bathing at the pond alone. He had gone to look for her and stumbled upon her emerging from the water. She had been furious and accused him of spying on her. It had taken a great deal of persuasion to convince her otherwise, that he had not even known she was there until he came to look for her. When she was finally persuaded it had not been his eyes she felt staring at her from the brush, her mood had turned softer and seemed almost grateful for his protection. Since that day, he had been kicking himself for not taking advantage of the situation and allowing himself the reward of kissing her.  
  
But, she was here now and the kiss they were sharing was tender, soft and at the same time filled with the passion they had both secretly felt for each other these last two years.  
  
As Roxton pushed Marguerite's body away from his for a better look at her, he noticed she was wearing a different gown in a different color. This one was dark brown, long with some kind of elaborate stitching around the neckline and cuffs. "What are you wearing? Where are you getting these clothes, Marguerite? Do they mean something? Can you tell me anything more about where you are?"   
  
The questions were pouring from Roxton's lips just as in the two previous visits with this lovely soul before him. His eyes were imploring her for the answers.  
  
"I just know the stitching means something. The history of the tribe, the location of the village. That's all I know. The woman who gave me the dress did the stitching. It was supposed to be part of her trousseau when she married the man who now holds me captive. Her name is Serena."  
  
John had been listening closely, not wanting to miss a word, willing his mind to store this information safely in its memory bank to be retrieved the next morning. He also felt the stitching on the dress meant something. Marguerite had said it symbolized the tribe ....and....the location of the village! This was the clue he had been hoping and praying for. He needed to memorize the symbols. Would he be able to decipher the signs the next day?  
  
He knew he didn't have much time before she would be pulled away from him back to the darkness of the night and so he held her a distance away from him to study the dress at length. And, as he had predicted, the same force as before was now taking Marguerite's spirit away from him again.  
  
"I'll find you Marguerite. Don't worry, I'll find you."  
  
As Marguerite was disappearing from sight, she voiced her fear with "Hurry, John. There isn't much time left. I can only come to you one more night"  
  
With those words echoing in his mind, John woke up with a renewed intensity to continue the search, confident in the knowledge that this morning there would be no flowers left by her ghostly vision, but instead would use the markings on the dress to help them find the village.  
  
*****  
  
The next morning when Serena entered the room with breakfast, Marguerite had already formed a plan, which involved the woman who was now becoming her only friend in this dismal place. They had talked all afternoon the day before and Marguerite was beginning to believe the key to her escape was to entice Serena with the promise of getting back the love of her life, Vadar. Although, why anyone would want this big, hulking man, who was so quick to turn away from his now 'touched' betrothed, was beyond her. But that wasn't important now.   
  
The day before she knew she was winning Serena as a friend, but now she had to convince her the plan being formed in her cunning mind was the right thing to do.  
  
"Serena, I think I have an idea how you can win back Vadar. You do still want him, don't you?"  
  
When Serena's face lit up at the prospect of becoming the apple of her beloved's eye again, Marguerite knew she had won this latest battle. Winning the war would come later, if Serena followed her instructions to the letter.   
  
During their plotting, deep in Marguerite's mind, she had the feeling again that Roxton had been with her the night before. Since she had been brought to this village, she had been having trouble determining the difference between reality and her dreams. She felt something was happening while she slept, something in her dreams she should be remembering. Something that might be important to helping her escape. But try as she could, her memories still felt fuzzy. Maybe it was the blow to her head Vadar's goon had bestowed to her right temple that last night at the treehouse. Whatever it was, according to Marguerite's escape plan, she would only be spending one more night in this ugly room.   
  
Her plan had to work. Time was running out. Tomorrow the wedding and celebration were to take place and Marguerite had no intention of becoming the wife of such a brute of a man. Where was Roxton? She'd been here for three days and three nights. Surely, he and the others were looking for her. Even though she and Roxton always seemed to quarrel with each other, she knew when one of them was threatened with harm, the other was the first to jump to their defense. Where was he?  
  
*****  
  
Roxton had been worried he'd not be able to remember the markings on the dress Marguerite had been wearing when she came to him the night before. But his fears were unwarranted. He finally felt it was time to share with the others what had been happening in his dreams the last three nights. He didn't care if they looked at him like he had lost his mind. He knew he had to have help deciphering the markings on the dress. They held the clue to the location of the village where Marguerite was being held against her will.  
  
He told them everything Marguerite's spirit had told him the night before. He described in vivid detail the markings he had studied so intensely. While John was pouring out these details, Veronica's facial expressions were changing with every word.  
  
"I know where that village is!!! My parents found it years ago on one of their expeditions to the other side of the plateau. It's about one day's walk from here. I just hope we can make it in time. When did she say the wedding was to take place?"  
  
"By my calculations, tomorrow morning"  
  
"Then we've no time to lose!"  
  
"What do you know about these people, Veronica? Are they the friendly sort? Does Marguerite have anything to worry about other than being married off to someone she doesn't love? I mean, they aren't cannibals or the warrior sorts are they?" Roxton was pouring out all his fears of the last few days in hopes of hearing they would still find Marguerite alive. Perhaps already married to this Vadar person, but that could be remedied easily enough. Since she really wasn't a member of their tribe, a marriage ceremony between these two would be invalid, at the least.   
  
If they could just get there before the marriage was consummated. Roxton shuddered at the thought of Marguerite being violated by this Vadar. It was an idea he didn't dare entertain for long as it sent lethal thoughts through his mind. He'd kill anyone that dare touch his Marguerite against her will.  
  
A day's walk! It was already mid-morning and the wedding was planned for tomorrow morning. They would never make it.   
  
When night began to fall, it was Challenger who suggested they rest for a few hours, even at Roxton's insistence they continue in the dark. He had been listening carefully to what John had told them earlier that day about the ghostly visits he had been receiving while sleeping.   
  
"Didn't Marguerite say she could only come to you one more night? Maybe she's trying to tell you something important. This soul or apparition you see every night may give you the piece to the puzzle in this one last visit that we need to secure her safety."  
  
"Challenger's right", Ned offered. "Let's camp here for a few hours anyway, John. Just enough time for you to sleep and dream."  
  
Roxton knew they were right about all needing a few hours rest, but wasn't sure if he would be able to fall asleep in his agitated state of mind. His fears were assuaged not long after he laid his head down on the makeshift pillow made from his blanket. His eyes had closed heavily with sleep and soon he was seeing Marguerite coming toward him.... for one last time.  
  
"John, I don't have much time left. Serena and I have devised a plan to take place just before the wedding ceremony tomorrow at noon. I don't have time to explain it in full detail, but when you come within a half-mile of the village, head east.... there's a clearing nearby and I'll meet you. Don't try to come into the village. There will be too many guards expecting someone to come for me.?"  
  
"How will I know where to find you?"  
  
"I'll leave you a sign........"  
  
She was already beginning to fade back into the darkness and the enveloping mist around the campsite.  
  
"Look for the sign......"  
  
And with those last words, she was gone, swallowed up by the darkness of the night.  
  
Roxton remembered her words of the previous night. "I can only come to you one more time." Was this the last time Roxton would ever see her lovely face? Whether he had been seeing the face of the real Marguerite or just the face of her soul, he would never know. All he could think of was holding her again, safely in his arms.  
  
They were only a few hours away from the village Veronica's parents had visited so many years before, and Roxton was showing his impatience to reach their destination.  
  
*****  
  
Morning came all too soon for Marguerite. Her heart was nervously pounding with the knowledge that time had run out. Roxton still wasn't here. Well, her plan was a good one and she knew it would work. It just had to work.  
  
****  
  
Veronica had been leading the way to the village and stopped suddenly when she realized they were within the suggested distance from the main gate. Roxton gave a knowing look to each of his companions and proceeded alone down the trail towards the east side of the village. "Look for a sign....", she had said. What kind of sign? he was asking himself. How would he know he had found the sign, and would it be the same flowers that had helped lead them this far? He only hoped whatever vision had been visiting his dreams, was with him today.  
  
Before he had gone too far, the sight coming toward him sent a wave of dread over his mind and body. It was the all too familiar mist from his dreams gathered around a clearing not far ahead The mist settled around him making him lose his bearings and he felt panic, panic that he was lost. Moments later his panic gave way to sheer relief when he saw the mist was lifting and not descending. And, there was the sign! Three flowers shaped in an arrow pointing to the path and the woman coming toward him out of the mist, heading straight for his open arms.  
  
When he had wrapped both arms tightly around her, his first thought was.....is she real...or am I dreaming again! But when she spoke, her voice was clear and strong, not like the ghostly apparition's faint and pleading voice of his dreams.   
  
"Well, it's about time you showed up! Where were you all this time? As usual, I had to arrange my own escape!"  
  
Oh, yes!!...this was the real Marguerite. The real flesh and blood Marguerite. Roxton threw his head back and laughed that deep laugh that Marguerite had come to love so much. Looking down at her frowning face he said "Now, how did I know you would say those exact words."  
  
Roxton's laugh always had the same effect on Marguerite. The scowl on her face vanished and was replaced with her own laughter, laughter coming from the joy of seeing John's face again.  
  
She had already returned to his arms when he said, "Let's go home, Marguerite."  
  
"Home...now there's a word I could get used to hearing."  
  
As they walked hand in hand back to their waiting friends, Marguerite smiled to herself remembering the events of just an hour ago, when her plan had been set into motion. She only hoped the rest of her idea would go as smoothly as this part had.  
  
*****  
  
Serena had arrived in her room at the exact time they had agreed upon, and they began to exchange clothes. Marguerite's wedding gown was carefully pulled over Serena's hair and and Serena gave her former rival the blue dress she had put on that morning in preparation for the upcoming celebration. Both laughed at the way each garment fit the other as though they were made for each other.   
  
"Now, for the veil. Remember, Serena, keep it on for as long as you can. Make the sure the room is dark, and don't forget to keep Vadar's wine glass filled during the celebration. " Marguerite knew from past experience, the way to pull the wool over a man's eyes was to cloud them with too much to drink.  
  
Serena gave Marguerite a thankful hug and reminded her of the way out of the east side of the village walls.   
  
"Be careful, Marguerite. Stay close to the outer perimeter of the village until you're through the opening in the wall. Most of the revelers will be gathered in the middle of the square, so you should be able  
to travel with no one noticing you. Keep the shawl wrapped around your face and head. That way if someone does see you, they will just think you are me gone to sulk over her lost love."  
  
"Thank you, Serena." Marguerite said fondly, "....and don't forget what I told you last night how to keep your man...they're all pushovers for passions of the body."  
  
She took one last look around the hateful room that had been her prison for the last few days and noticed the vase that had held the treehouse flowers was now empty. Perhaps Serena had taken the remaining flowers for her wedding bouquet. Marguerite thought she would probably never know, but it didn't matter at the moment. It was time to slip out of the now unguarded room, make her way out of the village and find her way back home.  
  
With the wedding ceremony completed and the celebration going on for many hours, night began to fall and Vadar prepared himself to join his new wife in the final stage of the wedding....the consummation of the vows.   
  
Hours later, when both newlyweds were laying side by side in the dark, Vadar couldn't believe his good luck. This night had produced more passion and satisfaction that he had ever known in his life. He should have brought this woman back for wedded bliss weeks ago. Why had he waited? Perhaps to give Serena, his former betrothed, a chance to find another man. When she seemed to have no interest in the other young men in the village, he had decided to bring this new woman to him.   
  
He hadn't planned for her to be so badly bruised in the process. But all in all, this night had turned out to be the most pleasurable of his life. And just think, he would have this woman in his bed forever as his wife.   
  
When dawn broke, the rest of the bridal gown and veil had been completely removed from his new bride, and he was anxiously waiting to see her beautiful face and the body he had become obsessed with so many weeks ago.   
  
When the sunlight from the window finally rested on the bed, and his bride was completely revealed to him, he gasped.   
  
"Serena?? Serena!!......You tricked me! Where's Marguerite?"  
  
"Gone, back to her true love. Dear Vadar, she didn't deserve you. You should have heard the names she called you. You would never be happy with some like that. And, I'll tell you a secret you didn't know....she wasn't an 'untouched woman' either," she added teasingly.  
  
Vadar looked confused. He shook his head violently. He had drunk so much wine last night, he didn't realize his new bride had never removed her veil throughout the night. But when she had removed her wedding gown, her body had brought him pleasures that, up to this point in his life, he had only dreamed of or imagined.  
  
"Come back to bed, my love." Serena was drawing Vadar back to her. "Let me show you more."  
  
After a few minutes of remembering last night's passions, he slowly began to realize this woman who had shared his wedding chamber last night had become someone he didn't want to push aside again.   
  
******  
  
There was another celebration in the treehouse, one to celebrate the return of Marguerite. The evening had been complete with Strauss waltzes to which Roxton whirled Marguerite around the room with an ease he had never experienced before.  
  
Later when they were alone on the balcony, as they had been so many nights ago, John told Marguerite about the signs left by his nightly visitor, the flowers that had led them through uncharted trails and to the clearing outside the village. To his amazement, Marguerite didn't seem surprised at this revelation. In fact, she had the same look on her face she always had when she knew she was right about something.  
  
"Remember that last night on the balcony, when you said you would only come to me of your own accord in my dreams?"  
  
When Marguerite nodded yes, Roxton continued, "I think it was your soul coming to me each night."  
  
Marguerite leaned into the curve of Roxton's shoulder and said, "It's lucky we finally found a way to communicate with each other or I might not be standing here with you tonight."  
  
"I believe those dreams were meant to be a sanctuary for our souls, Marguerite."  
  
"You are my sanctuary, John. You may not have known this before, but you've always held my soul in your heart."  
  
John pulled her closer to him and whispered the words he had already spoken several times that night, "Well, I have you now, Marguerite and you're finally safe."  
  
And, for the first time in Marguerite's life as she stood there enjoying the strength and protection of John's arms, she truly did feel...safe at last.  
  
THE END  
  
  
  
  



End file.
